Not Soulmates
by selfishshipper
Summary: Sometimes, love is about listening to your heart, not your stomach. Stupid soulmate AU where food really does decide your love life. Rated T for language.


**Random ass idea my friend gave while we were eating lunch. It's stupid, but I got kinda "inspired". Rated T for language. Sorry if I didn't write the characters correctly, I just joined the fandom so idk them that well. Part two will be out shortly.**

The whole "soulmate" idea was quite stupid to Sherlock, especially in the way it worked. He had heard the theories, read the stories. Anything would have made more sense than this. Heart marks, matching tattoos, anything. You only really learned about the whole soulmate thing at the age of fifteen, as parents decide they want to be vague. So how does it work? Well, quite the stupid idea, but…

At the age of sixteen, exactly sixteen, the first food you eat after turning said age really says it all. The story goes, _"Your soulmate will be eating the exact same food at the exact same time as you. It will be the same brand, but maybe not at the same place."_ Really, whatever god decided to get off his ass and make this universe really should have thought about his decision to make this obtuse form of finding a soulmate. So, on his sixteenth birthday, Sherlock had thought long and hard about what to eat. Least favorite food could lead to your soulmate liking it, which would be problematic. Eating his favorite food could lead to his soulmate not liking it, which would be problematic. And if they did like it, then that's all he might eat. Of course, stupid deduction, but hey, this whole system is idiotic. So, after an hour of contemplating vegetable or meat, he closed his eyes and reached into the freezer. He grabbed the first thing that came into contact with his hand. Pulling it out, Sherlock inhaled and threw it in the general direction of the table. When he opened his eyes, he waltzed over to the table and glanced at the food he had chosen. Mac 'n Cheese. That was his first sixteen-year-old food. A box of Amy's Mac 'n Cheese. Could have been worse. So, Sherlock ate it, documenting the time in his mind-palace. He shook his head, laughing at the imbecile he was and going to bed. He hadn't thought about it for the next fourteen years, which were very eventful. May random girlfriends, finishing school with flying colors, finding his way into the detective business, meeting a "friend", dying, not being dead, being a best man, and other more, unpleasant things. So why was it just occurring to him now?

"Sherlock, are you listening?" John asked, noticing that his friend was staring off into space.

"Not exactly, would you like me to?" Sherlock asked, even though he had been following every word.

"Prick. I was asking if you had any cases I need to attend. You know, so I don't have to pass all because of divorce papers?" John continued. Sherlock coughed.

"Divorce? Already? This has to be a new record," he retorted. John rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, well, Mary and I have been a bit awkward lately. Plus, it turns out she was lying about the food too," he answered, bitterness lacing his words.

"Why does everyone care about the food. Honestly, love is supposed to about listening to your heart, not your stomach," Sherlock commented. John laughed.

"And of course you know all about love," he stated. Sherlock rolled his eyes, sighing and turning back to the laptop he had snatched from John. "Has the great Sherlock Holmes even found his soulmate yet?"

"Maybe I don't have one," he argued.

"Or maybe you don't want one?" John suggested. "Come on, what was sixteen-year-old Sherlock's food of choice?"

"Why does it matter? If I don't want a soulmate, I don't have to have a soulmate," Sherlock argued. He only argued because he was scared. Scared of what he might find out. So maybe he had a small, teeny, tiny error of his own. Human love and compassion. Something he could never control, and he knew full well. It had only started a few months back. Deductions became a bit more challenging. But only with a certain person. John. Sherlock was a genius, of course, and it didn't take him long to figure out what was going on. He didn't question it, he just accepted that the soldier did things to him. He found it harder to read John, his emotions blocking his senses. So it was perfectly normal that he didn't want to say his food.

"Oh come on. What harm could it do? You probably thought long and hard about it. Really staring down some poor patch of broccoli," John teased.

"No, of course not. Broccoli isn't even good, what on Earth makes you think I would choose such an unpleasant food?" Sherlock snapped back. He watched John laugh, noticing something, but not being able to name it. Something in his face.

"Well, apparently my soulmate will be some insane vegetarian," John joked. Sherlock's heart dropped all the way to the floor.

"Your food was broccoli?" he masked his voice with a sneer, even though he could feel his voice cracking. _Fucking human error._ He had never been susceptible to this pain and he wasn't starting now.

"Yup, good old healthy army boy I was. Ate it bright and early too," John kept going, his voice casual. Sherlock nodded, trying to focus all his attention on the laptop before him.

And this is why Sherlock Holmes _hated_ the soulmate system.

 **No Tony Stark in a dress here (he's too busy being a Sherlock fangirl), STAY HUNGRY MY FRIENDS!**

 **review?**


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